Cat's out of the Bag
by mccabebabe
Summary: A prison escape spells possible danger for Spencer Reid. And time for another game with Cat Adams. Reid/Max, Cat Adams


Cat's Out of the Bag

A CM fiction

Reid/Max, Cat Adams

K+ possibly, for language/situation

A prison escape spells possible danger for Spencer Reid. And time for another game with Cat Adams.

This story was the product of a conversation with an inspirational fellow Reid fan. We saw an instagram reply from Aubrey Plaza to a post by Matthew Gray Gubler. This, and the BTS photo of Reid in a hospital gown in the CM finale episode set this story in motion. Both the premise and a good part of the story were actually conceived by my collaborator from across the pond, Wolf Alice. My eternal thanks for the creative input! And as always, also to the Beta Reader Extraordinaire, Aut. Ladies, I owe you.

Author's note and disclaimer: In the CM episodes "Red Light" and "Green Light" we are made aware that Cat Adams is in the Mount Pleasant women's prison and that to go question her, Reid and JJ take the jet. In those same episodes, we discover that prison guard Lionel Wilkins works at both Cat's and Reid's prisons. Obviously, they must be within driving distance of where he lives (Falls Church, VA), putting both prisons within an hour or so of DC.

Spencer Reid puttered around his apartment in happy anticipation, taking his time tidying and clearing away clutter. Usually, it was _his_ job as an FBI profiler that took_ him_ out of town on cases. This time, it had been Max sent half way across the country for her work and he missed her. She'd been in St. Louis for four days now and before that, she'd spent nearly a week in Tulsa.

The first in a series of texts he'd received from Max late last night indicated she'd completed her tasks and would be returning home today. He'd immediately sent Unit Chief Emily Prentiss a text, asking for and receiving the day off in order to be home for Max's return.

He'd found it nearly impossible to sleep, too excited about her pending return.

_I miss you so much I'll be coming straight to your place! _Spencer smiled as he recalled her last text.

He pictured her wearing the purple shirt of his that she always wore when he was out of town. The thought made him smile; he'd noticed earlier that it wasn't in the closet or the laundry hamper and surmised it had made the trip west with her. He laughed, recalling a recent conversation with JJ's husband Will.

"_I had this favourite ol' dark blue sweater that JJ took a real likin' too. Damned if it didn't go missin' after the first time she came to N'orlins for the weekend."_

"_She took your sweater?"_

"_I believe she did, Spencer. Said it made her feel closer to me when we were apart. Always looked better on her than me anyway."_

"_I keep missing this purple shirt."_

"_It's happenin', brother," Will had laughed._

Spencer's face lit up at the thought of Max taking his shirt. _It was true_, he chuckled. She wore it more than he did. He remembered another exchange.

"_You look better in that than I do."_

_She wrinkled her nose and gave him a half-smile. "Not possible. Still keeping it though!"_

His thoughts circled back to her impending return. Her text didn't give a projected time but a quick late night search of airline schedules indicated one of four possible return times and he fervently hoped she'd opted for one of the two morning flights back to DC.

He'd finally fallen asleep in the early morning hours, only to be awakened at his usual six-thirty a.m. by the ringing of the telephone. Blindly, he'd made his way out to his desk where the rotary phone sat and picked it up.

"Hello?"

There was silence from the other end and as he repeated hello, he heard the click indicating the call had been disconnected.

Sighing loudly in frustration, he'd replaced the receiver and briefly debated going back to bed. _I'm up now, might as well make use of the time._

Knowing Max would _Uber_ her way to his place from the airport, he decided to spend the time left cleaning and preparing for her return.

Once dishes were cleared and the apartment dusted and vacuumed it was almost eleven a.m. and Spencer's attention went to his own presentment. Still in his pajamas and housecoat, he made his way to the bathroom and began by replacing his eyeglasses with the contact lenses he hated wearing. That accomplished, he filled the sink with hot water and lathered up his face to shave.

The door to apartment 23 opened and then closed quietly. She heard water running in the bathroom and smiled. _Good, he didn't hear me. _The dark haired woman tossed the paper clip that had served as a lock-picking tool to the floor. She strode to the desk and in one swift movement, yanked the landline telephone cord from the wall. A satisfied smile drew across her face.

Glancing around, she noted how neat the apartment was. She found his suit jacket hanging over the back of his desk chair and quickly searched its pockets, hoping in vain to find his service weapon. _Dammit, _she muttered under her breath, moving to search for a suitable item to use as a weapon should the need arise.

His empty gun holster sat on the edge of the desk, she realised. _The damn gun is probably locked up._ She tugged at the top desk drawer and pursed her lips in frustration when she discovered it was locked. Giving up on the firearm, her eyes did a quick inventory of the desktop. A pair of handcuffs sat next to the gun holster and she pocketed those. She picked up a heavy book and read its title: _The Narrative of John Smith by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. _

'_This'll do,' _she conceded.

The water stopped running in the bathroom but she heard small intermittent splashes. Following the sound, she made her way to Reid's bedroom. She took a moment to absorb everything about the room: the chest of drawers against the near wall, the chair in one corner, the bed, the door—presumably to the bathroom—and the closet. Her eyes recorded the old style alarm clock on the night table, and next to it, Reid's keys, smartphone and watch. Returning her attention to the bathroom, she realised it had become quiet. Tiptoeing to stand beside its door, she wielded the book and waited.

Reid came out of the bathroom and gasped in surprise as he came face to face with her.

He started to speak and was interrupted as the heavy book he'd carried with him daily since receiving it made contact with his face. Dropping unconscious to the floor, he cracked his head soundly on the doorframe as he fell.

"Whoops," she said, bending down to check to make sure she hadn't inadvertently killed him, and sighing in audible relief when she determined he was still breathing. His nose was bleeding, and he had a long mark on his temple that was certain to develop into a bruise shortly.

"Sorry about that," she said disingenuously as she set about hauling his inert body up onto the bed. She laid him out on his back carefully. Taking the handcuffs from her pocket, she secured his right wrist to the bedpost. Satisfied he wasn't going anywhere, she walked into the bathroom and returned with a towel, pressing it against his nose to stem the bleeding.

"I hope this wasn't one of your good towels," she quipped. She sat with him for several minutes until the bleeding stopped and then made another trip to the bathroom to rinse out the bloodied towel and get another dry one as well. She returned to her patient and as she cleaned him up, he stirred back into consciousness.

"Cat Adams?" he said in surprise, as her face came into focus.

"Spencie. I've missed you."

"What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you of course."

He shook off the effects of being knocked out and sat up labouriously. Taking note of his handcuffed hand, his brow furrowed and he glared at her. "What the hell?"

"I need a" she paused for dramatic effect, "_captive_ audience."

He bit back the response he had in mind and instead put on a poker face. "So, are we going to play another game?"

"Oh. Yes! I _love_ to play with you," she purred.

"What are the parameters this time?" He looked around and noted his keys, watch and smartphone were on the night table beside the bed.

She picked up his smartphone and held it in front of him, indicating he should thumb the finger recognition button to unlock it. He did so and hoped she wasn't going to go through his calls and texts and was relieved—although he was careful not to show it—when she immediately went to the timer app.

After inputting the necessary information, Cat set the phone down on the chest of drawers across the room where it was safely out of Reid's reach.

"You have one hour to figure out how I got here and why."

His brow furrowed again. "You just said you were here to see me because you missed me."

She smiled coyly. "You _know _there's more to it than that."

"So. I get to ask the questions? And you have to answer them truthfully?"

"Of course."

He considered this for a minute. "Did you break out of prison?"

"Not exactly," she smiled.

"So," he said aloud while running scenarios through his mind. She'd had outside help to frame him in the Mexico incident. She'd used a prison guard and her own lover to gaslight him. "A guard helped you."

A sly smile crossed her face, "There's no tricking you, is there?"

He shook his head. "No. That's not it." He decided that was too easy. She made a face and waited.

"You got out in the laundry van or the catering truck," he said sarcastically, to occupy her attention while he continued reasoning silently.

"That works too."

"I thought you were supposed to answer truthfully?"

"I did! Getting out in the laundry van or the catering truck would've worked. If that was how I did it."

He eyed her for a long moment. "There's any number of ways. Escape during a hospital trip. Or at a court date." He weighed the possibilities. "But you had help. Like before. You have something on someone and forced them to do your will."

"Very good."

"You don't have a gun, so you didn't overpower a guard." He thought for another moment and then decided, "You had the prison doctor send you to a hospital. You're holding something on him that could ruin his career," he let the rest of the sentence die on his lips. _There was never a pregnancy, never a baby. And the doctor had falsified that report for her, _Reid realised.

"Gold star," she said and reaching across the bed, she took his shackled hand and made the motions of drawing a star on the back of it.

"Somehow, while you were at the hospital, you managed to get away. A diversion? A trip to the bathroom maybe and while the guard wasn't paying attention you fled?"

She smiled widely and walked over to the chest of drawers, looked at the phone and turned to him.

"Just about two hours ago," she told him. "You'll have to excuse my appearance, I grabbed the first clothes I could find in the X-ray department's changing cubicles. She indicated the ill-fitting jeans and sweater she was wearing. Really not my style."

"You stole a car."

"I did. But I kinda knew that would be discovered quickly. So…..I really must compliment DC's extensive and reliable train service."

Reid's smartphone rang and they both froze momentarily as it went through to voice mail. He waited, eyeing her as she turned around to see who had called.

"Looks like Penelope is looking for you," Cat taunted.

He ignored the taunt. Penelope Garcia was probably calling to let him know that Cat Adams had somehow escaped custody. The FBI would have been notified and because of his history with her, Unit Chief Prentiss would have directed that he be warned immediately. He bit his lip to suppress the smile that resulted. If he didn't answer his phone, Prentiss would know something was wrong. Sooner or later, the team would come to check on him. This knowledge gave him the advantage. He'd just keep Cat occupied until they got here.

"And that leaves us with why are you here." he said aloud, mostly to himself as he ran through the possibilities. He stopped thinking aloud. _If it were revenge, she would've just killed me outright. But she would've needed a weapon for that. She would've researched. Prepared before coming here. And not found much. Personal life is kept pretty close to the vest. Mom's nursing home isn't listed on any of my records at work. Our solved cases, well that information's widely available but wouldn't be relevant. _He circled back around to the main point and blurted out loud,

"What the hell does Cat Adams want with me?"

"What the hell would I want with you, Spencie," she repeated.

He thought about that long and hard. They'd already previously been over the idea that his stint in prison had caused him to be like her. And he'd dispelled that quite clearly. He thought back to that night. He'd figured her out and left her in tears.

He pulled absently on the handcuffed hand. Cat saw the movement.

"Uncomfortable?"

"Very."

"I'm sorry, but—"

"I know. You need a captive audience." He met her gaze and added, "Because I certainly wouldn't be with you will—" he stopped in the middle of a word as the realisation hit him. _Cat Adams thought she was in love with him. It fit. The desperate measures to have him visit her in the prison. The tears when he'd left. He'd never considered the possibility before. Never considered that another woman would ever want him. And then Max had come along and refuted his theory._

He blinked and then made eye contact with her again. "When we spoke at Mount Pleasant, the idea that you thought I was actually in love with you came up."

"Are you revisiting your feelings for me?" She moved from the chest of drawers and stood at the foot of the bed, facing him.

"I have no feelings for you," he told her. His eyes caught a blurry movement of purple behind her but didn't let on. It took every resource he had to not visibly react. _Please Max! Get out! Be safe! _He hoped fervently that she remembered their conversation weeks earlier about always staying alert, staying safe. If she had any suspicions, any hint that something was amiss, she was to run and hide.

Cat interrupted his thoughts and brought him back to the present.

"Not even hate?"

He shook his head slightly. "I don't hate you, Cat."

She narrowed her eyes looking for the truth.

"I don't hate you," he repeated. "I hate what you've done. But I know why you are the way you are and I can't hate you for reacting to your upbringing. You intrigue me, Cat. You always have. But that's not love. Fascination isn't love. Obsession isn't love. Maybe there's another world where you and I could be friends. Admittedly, one where, you know, you don't kill people."

She was quiet for a long moment. Softening. Reflecting. And then her hard veneer reappeared.

"And that's why I came here. So you could tell me you don't hate me," she intoned with a vaguely sarcastic tone.

Spencer shook his head. "No." He paused to take a breath and steel himself. "I think you came here to tell me that you love me."

She stared at him for a long moment before saying "I love you."

It sounded more like a question than an affirmation.

"Am I right? Cat, do you think you're in love with me?"

She stepped forward, moving a little closer to him, bending down so their faces were level. He leaned away from her. Cat reached out with one hand, angling to touch his face.

"Do you want me to show you?"

Behind her, the tiny blur of purple Reid had seen a moment earlier manifested itself into Max, wearing his shirt and brandishing the art deco lamp that usually sat on Reid's desk.

"You're incapable of love, Cat. Incapable of caring for another human being. We've been over that before. The hamster and the six year old, remember?"

Cat stroked Reid's face with one hand and ignoring what he'd said, purred. "You shaved. So nice. For me?"

He drew away from her attention and undeterred, Cat touched his face again. Reid flinched as her fingers touched his cheek.

"Not today, you satanic feline!" Max growled and swung the lamp at Cat Adams' head. "You just used up another one of your lives!"

The prison escapee turned as Max yelled and the lamp made contact with Cat's skull. She crumpled to the floor in a heap. As Max gasped at her own action, Spencer reached across the night table with his left hand and grabbed his keys that Cat had carelessly left there.

In a flash, he unlocked the handcuffs and sprang from the bed as Cat started to regain her feet.

"Who the hell are you?" she spat as she lunged at Max. Her hands went up in defense as Cat clawed at her. Max blocked the punch Cat tried to throw. Cat suddenly found herself pinned as Spencer grabbed her arms from behind.

"Oh no you don't," he warned her as he pulled her away from Max. Cat continued in vain to struggle against Reid's hold on her.

"Sorry about the lamp, sweetheart," Max apologised as she bent down to start picking up its pieces, drawing her hand back quickly as she cut it on a sharp edge. Her right thumb was bleeding and she pulled a tissue from the box on the night table and wrapped it up.

"You okay?" he asked her. Max nodded and he continued, "Then I don't care about the damn lamp." Spencer met Max's gaze and couldn't help adding, "That was a pretty impressive display of force, Max."

She smiled in acknowledgement of his compliment. Reid stepped back, still keeping Cat pinned and twisting her arms behind her. Cat resisted his hold and he tightened it.

"Max," he directed, nodding his head towards the bed. She picked up the handcuffs and waited as Spencer pushed Cat face first against the wall to facilitate putting the cuffs on her. Once that was accomplished, Spencer turned Cat around to face them.

"I don't believe you two have met?" He smiled sweetly as he slipped an arm around Max and drew her closer. "Max, Cat Adams, the contract serial killer I've told you about. Cat, this is _my girlfriend_, Max."

Distressed but not yielding defeat, Cat continued to struggle against Reid's firm grip on her bound hands. "Nice to meet you," she spat out insincerely.

Just as untruthfully, Max replied, "Likewise."

Turning her attention to Spencer, Max told him, "I know I'm supposed to hide or flee at the sign of danger. But when you said her name, I realised who this was. And there was just no way I was going to let this feral tabby hurt you again."

Cat hissed and tried to lunge at Max to no avail as Reid held her firmly in place.

"It's okay, Max. I understand." Spencer took a few steps towards the chest of drawers, having to drag Cat along to keep her secure. He activated the phone and then turned to Max, indicating his unlocked phone.

"Can you call—" He was interrupted by the sound of knocking at the door.

"Reid?" a familiar voice called through the closed door.

"I'll get that." Max set the lamp pieces back on the floor and hurried to the door, admitting the entire BAU team.

"We couldn't get a hold of you on the phone, Spencer, and you need to know that Ca—" Emily Prentiss started and stopped abruptly when she noticed Reid trotting Cat Adams out of the bedroom towards them.

"I, uh, know," he told her as he handed Cat over to Luke Alvez and Matt Simmons. "Will you guys take her in, please?" Reid wanted to turn his attention to Max but David Rossi forestalled him.

"I'll go with you," Tara Lewis offered as the men led their captive towards the door. Before following them, Tara asked if Reid and Max were all right.

"We'll take care of it, thank you, Tara," Prentiss assured her.

"Nice work," Rossi congratulated them on their capture of the fugitive. "She break in?" he asked as he flipped open his notebook to write.

Reid related the entire incident to Rossi. While the two men spoke, JJ and Emily ensured Max was all right and helped her clean up the broken lamp.

"You clocked her with it?" JJ asked incredulously as they overheard Reid's discourse.

Max nodded. "I suppose I should be regretful, but she had Spence cuffed to the bed and was going on about how he'd shaved for her and…ugh"

"You did great!" Emily assured her.

"That bitch. As if he'd ever want her to lay a hand on him."

"It's okay. You're okay. He's okay," JJ told her. "Although he is gonna hafta go to the hospital. That's a pretty nasty bruise on the side of his head."

Max nodded again. JJ and Emily took the broken lamp pieces and made their way to Reid's kitchen to find a bag to dispose of them.

Max picked the book up from the floor. She turned to Reid, "I haven't seen this one before, Spence. But I know you love Sir Arthur."

He took the book from her gently. "I was going to tell you about this one. You haven't seen it before because it's in my messenger bag almost all the time. I take it with me on cases." His hands shook slightly as he opened the first page and took a deep breath. "Remember that talk we had about keeping safe?"

Max nodded and stroked his face.

"This is to remind me to stay safe."

He let her read the inscription. Tears sprang to her eyes and she wrapped her arms around him.

"Carrying it with me reminds me to always keep safe. To always stay alert. To never let what happened to Maeve happen again."

He didn't have to explain further_. _Max kissed his cheek softly and reassured him, "We will always be safe."

Gently, she traced alongside the mark on his face with a finger. "And this is turning nasty. JJ's right, there might be a concussion."

Spencer took her hand in his and nodded, "Yeah, and you should probably have that checked out too." He turned her hand over and indicated the cut along her thumb. "Looks like my lamp wasn't the only casualty."

Emily and JJ returned with the bagged lamp pieces.

"Will this be repairable, Spence?" Emily asked him, holding open the bag to show him the several dozen pieces therein.

"The lamp?" He laughed. "No. My head? Definitely." He smiled and hugged Max, "And you?"

"I'm okay, but yeah, JJ's right, we should go to the hospital." She stopped and turned to JJ and Emily, "You know I am kinda sorry."

"Sorry? For what?"

"Sorry that Spence grabbed her when she was getting back up. I think I would've liked a good cat fight, you know?"

CMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMfinCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCMCM


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